


Somebody Else

by WatchforWitches



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Character Study, Gen, M/M, This is sort of just a half baked introspective about Alec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 20:51:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17567753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatchforWitches/pseuds/WatchforWitches
Summary: He stays on the front lines, chest and shoulders held high even when it feels like it will kill him, even when he feels like every bone in his entire body will turn into jello at any moment, that a swift kick to the knee will be his undoing, after all this.Turns out his undoing starts much nicer than a kick to the knee.





	Somebody Else

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a short character introspection about Alec and his first thoughts about meeting Magnus.  
> If you'd like more of his or any other requests, just drop it in the comments.  
> I hope you enjoy!

Sometimes, Alec forgets what a heavy weight sadness is, how much it feels like a physical pain. It sits in his chest and makes his breathing swallow and his heart _hurt._

He has always carried this weight with him, by himself, he bore it alone for the most part. Sometimes when he was younger, and his emotions were spilling out of him during his days at the institute and people would notice, he would talk to Izzy. He would sit on the edge of her bed and talk about her day, whatever most recent drama she had found herself wrapped up in. They would chat about nothing important really, until she would just head straight on and smash down the walls that Alec was so clearing dropping. He would hold back his tears, didn’t want his sister to think he was weak, just talking would help. He would train hard the next day, mind clearing just enough when he had his bow in hand, letting him let go of the heavy burdens he carried with him.

His father wanted a soldier, his mother the perfect diplomatic son, whatever Alec wanted, when he let himself make dreams of his own life, was not important. Alec’s future was not his own to plan, his own to control. If the bow string cut into him a little harder that session of training, then it was an accident. When Izzy found him with blood on his palm and made him let her wrap it for him, she smiled sadly. “Alec one day you will find someone,” she talks quietly between the two of them, always reading his exact thoughts. “It’s not impossible you know, you deserve to be happy too. It’s not all about rules and the Clave, you need to be happy.”

Alec just offers his sister a half hearted smile. She is young, _so young_ , she doesn’t know that his own happiness isn’t the focus of his life. If he was to follow his own path, it would end in disgrace and shame to the Lightwood name, the name that fell so heavy on him to carry, the weight of his father’s lineage. It didn’t matter what Alec wanted, _who_ he wanted. What mattered was that he was a soldier, that he followed the path that was in front of him. But his sister was so hopeful and caring, and he couldn’t bring himself to argue with her.

So he becomes the soldier he needs to be. Following protocol and rules and order. Izzy rags on him for being a stick in the mud, Jace thinks he is disagreeable, that he doesn't like anyone; but he follows his path. He is bound by his duty and his honor as if they are among the runes he wears on his skin. Half the time he feels like they should say _fraud,_ as if even the way he squares his shoulders gives away the fact that he doesn’t fit in, not quite. His masks will always be the first thing that everyone sees, the person that everyone knows, the hardworking shadow of Jace Wayland, the dutiful soldier of the New York institute, the dull pain in the ass brother of the beautifully vibrant Isabelle.

And sometimes his mask slips, and he realizes when he really stops for a moment, how _tired_ he is. He has been pushing himself for as long as he can remember, and despite everyone’s requests that he take a break, he can’t, won’t. He won’t let himself slip up, with his guard down he might, and he cannot afford that kind of fallout. So he stays on the front lines, chest and shoulders held high even when it feels like it will kill him, even when he feels like every bone in his entire body will turn into jello at any moment, that a swift kick to the knee will be his undoing, after all this.

Turns out his undoing starts much nicer than a kick to the knee. It starts on a mission, simple as any, go in, get information in a trade that Alec thinks is far too heavy a cost, and get out.

Magnus Bane, of course, does not make this an easy task. The high warlock is known for his trickery. He is mischievous and demure in a way that Alec is not used to around the institute. Magnus Bane is like someone with the volume turned up, so unafraid to be himself that he almost dares you to say something about it, as if words just roll right off of him. Alec wishes, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he had some of that gall.

But still, it was a mission, and the way it was seeming thus far an unsuccessful one. Magnus seemed very near portaling away, and Valentine had sent a spy. Alec shot him easily, but it didn't bode well for the rest of the mission's security.

Trailing the high warlock, they followed to his loft, his hideout point, in hopes that everyone would be gone. They split up, and searched wherever they could. Alec found himself following Magnus at a far distance, as if he was being pulled into the same direction at a delayed speed. It was probably a good thing he did, a circle member had infiltrated and was attacking Magnus. Alec lept into action upon this discovery, shooting an arrow to the man's leg, giving Magnus the upper hand, allowing his easy victory. His magic was powerful, artistic almost, Alec couldn't help but be impressed. “Well done,” he congratulated the warlock.

“More like medium rare,” Magnus replied with the same easy flippancy that Alec so often tried to replicate.

He turned around and the second Alec looked into his eyes, he knew that he was screwed.

**Author's Note:**

> Critique, comments and kudos appreciated!


End file.
